One Shot
by ReluctantSlashFan
Summary: Harvey is injured in a robbery...
1. Chapter 1

They never stopped for coffee, ever. Mike suggested it a few times, to and from the court house, but Harvey was always against having Ray stop. He said that there was coffee back at the office, free coffee. Why spend money on something they could get for free? So, it surprised Mike when Harvey tapped Ray on the shoulder and said, "Pull over up here."

"Java hut?" Mike asked surprised. "We're stopping for coffee?"

"You're always bitching about stopping. So, here you go," Harvey responded nonchalant. Mike really knew it was because he spotted the key piece of information that won them a very high profile case. Without that information, the smug defense lawyer would have wiped the floor with them despite Harvey telling Mike over and over: '_we're going to win, don't worry about it.'_

Instead of the witty response Mike thought up, the younger guy just nodded and pushed his door open. He waited for Harvey to join him before moving toward the small building crammed between a post office and a loan office.

They stepped inside, Mike relishing the strong scent of coffee. He liked the firm's coffee, sure, but nothing could compare to the Java Hut. "Do you want anything?" he asked Harvey, the least he could do was pay for the older man's coffee. He had bugged him about this place since they first drove past it, about a week after they started their unorthodox partnership.

"Just get your coffee," Harvey said moving toward an empty table, taking a seat. Mike headed toward the counter, glancing up at the menu, barely taking in the door opening behind him. He was thinking about ordering a plain coffee with extra cream and sugar when he heard a voice shout, "Everyone on the floor!" a shot soon followed.

Mike dropped at the sound of the shot, growing up in New York teaching him to do as the gunmen say. It was best to obey and live than to fight and die. Of course, tell that to Harvey Specter.

"Do you think this is wise?" his slow, calm voice wafted through the coffee shop.

"On the floor," the guy snapped and Mike glanced up to see him waving a .45, the silver catching the light.

"Honestly, you're robbing a place that looks as if it makes thirty bucks a day. So, you'll probably only end up with sixty-some if you count the change in the drawer. And besides me, there are probably six other people in here. And I doubt anyone who stops here carries more than a couple twenties and a ten, at the most."

"I said on the floor." The guy pointed his gun at Harvey, Mike's heart sped up.

Harvey's face remained impassive, his tone cool as he said, "And I'm just saying it's pointless to rob…" the bang stopped Mike's heart completely. He had enough time to see his boss fall, the gun man drop his gun and take off, before he was on his feet. "Harvey…!"

**Suits**

**OK, I shouldn't be publishing a new story. But I am. So blame it on my inability to listen to myself (I hope that makes sense).**

**Anyway, please let me know if a chapter two should be in the works, I own nothing remotely Suits related, and I hope you enjoyed this.**

**See ya...**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been one hour, six minutes, and fifteen…no sixteen seconds since Harvey Specter had been shot. Mike had counted every second, trying to keep his brain stimulated, to keep himself from panicking, from thinking. It was a nervous habit he picked up; usually saved for taking in random facts in whatever book he happened to have with him. Today, unfortunately, he didn't have a book on him. He rarely had a book on him anymore. Not since he started working for Pearson/Hardman, working for Harvey Specter.

So, he counted seconds. He counted seconds and waited for Donna to show up_. _She had to cancel all of Harvey's afternoon meetings and phone calls, or something like that. Mike really didn't listen to what she rattled off. The only thing he heard was '_stay there and keep me posted. I'll be there as soon as I can.'_ And he had stayed there, in the waiting room, counting seconds.

One hour, seven minutes, twenty-two seconds…

He remembered the blood, all the blood. His hands were still stained with Harvey's blood. He was sure, not one-hundred percent anyway, but pretty certain that the bullet hadn't actually entered Harvey's body. But there was too much blood; his head was pouring too much blood.

Mike's stomach churned, his hands shook violently. Harvey had been shot in the head, or grazed. The doctor hadn't come out to see him, to tell him about Harvey's condition, so he was stuck speculating. Speculating and counting.

One hour, eight minutes, thirty-four seconds…

He looked up when heels clacked across the floor, Donna hurried toward him. He would have stood up, but his legs probably wouldn't hold his weight, so he stayed down.

"How is he?" Donna asked taking a seat next to Mike, her usual calm, collected voice full of concern. Worried filled eyes settled on Mike, her face uncharacteristically apprehensive.

Mike shrugged, not trusting his voice. Not trusting his stomach. If he opened his mouth there was a ninety-six percent chance he was going to throw up.

"Where is he?"

Once again Mike shrugged. All he knew was Harvey had been pushed through a set of double doors forty-five minutes ago. He hadn't seen a doctor, or a nurse, not even an orderly, or an intern. He was stuck by himself, counting.

One hour, nine minutes, forty seconds…

"Mike, you don't look too good," Donna said softly. She rested her hand on his back. "And you're shaking. Has anyone checked you out?"

Mike shook his head. A part of him knew why she was asking, but for the life of him he couldn't remember why. He couldn't remember why and that scared him. He had never forgotten anything, not since he was two and his mother read him _Green Eggs and Ham. _He memorized the book in one sitting.

"Nurse," Donna started pushing herself up. Mike blindly snatched her arm, pulling her back in her chair. He tried to flash her an '_I'm fine_' look, still not trusting his voice, but she clearly was not paying attention to him. She tried to stand again, tried to get someone's attention, but Mike pulled her back again.

"You need help," she snapped ripping her arm from his loose grasp.

"It's my fault," he managed to whispered, hearing the audible crack in his voice. "I…I caused this…"

Shock crossed Donna's face as she lowered herself into her chair. It was a quiet for seconds then she said, "Did you shoot him?"

"What?" Mike was taken aback by that question.

"Did. You. Shoot. Him?" Donna asked slowly, enunciating each word. Mike shook his head, once again not trusting his voice. "Then, how is any of this your fault?"

Mike opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a doctor walking into the waiting room. Donna followed his gaze, getting to her feet. Mike stayed sitting, watching the doctor, still unsure whether or not his legs would hold him.

"Are you Harvey Specter's family?" the doctor asked slowly, eyeing Mike and Donna carefully.

"I'm Donna Ryan, I'm his emergency contact," Donna said crossing her arms.

"You're Donna?"

"That's what I just said," Donna responded testily.

"He's been asking about you," the doctor continued ignoring her tone. "And Mike Ross." Mike looked up at his name.

"Can we see him?" Donna asked and the doctor nodded. "How is he?"

"Come with me," the doctor replied. "I'll tell you on the way."

Donna started walking; stopping when she realized Mike hadn't followed her. She turned, fixing him with a steady gaze, and said, "Get up or I will pull you up."

"But…"

She sighed heavily, stalking back toward the younger guy, the doctor not looking their way but stopping. She crouched down, her eyes locking on Mike's blue ones, and said, "This isn't your fault. You didn't cause any of this. Now get your ass up." it was moments like that, that Mike fully understood why Harvey hired Donna as his assistant.

Mike stood on shaky legs, but to his surprise they actually held his weight, and followed Donna. They caught up with the doctor, and he started speaking. "Mr. Specter is a very lucky man. The bullet managed to graze his head, but did not penetrate his skull. He's pretty out of it right now, will be for some time, and needs to stay overnight for observations, but he should be able to go home tomorrow."

"So, he's going to be fine?" Donna asked to appease Mike's worry. He didn't feel as relieved as she looked, and could only guess he wasn't hiding his emotions well.

"As long as he takes it easy," the doctor confirmed nodding.

Donna mumbled something that sounded vaguely like '_Fat chance_' but before Mike could verify this statement they stopped outside of a curtained off area.

"You can see him for a few moments, just until we get a room ready, and then you can sit with him a little longer." The doctor's pager went off. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an intern in trouble." And he rushed off, nearly taking out an orderly pushing a tray.

Donna moved the curtain aside, stepping into the cubical, but Mike hesitated. Now that he wasn't counting, the guilt washed over him. What he had told Donna was true, despite what she told him. He wanted to stop for coffee; Harvey had Ray stop for him. If they would have kept going, went back to the firm, none of this would have happened.

Yes, the place still would have been robbed. But there was a possibility no one would have been shot. Hell, there was a possibility the guy only robbed The Java Hut because both Harvey and Mike went inside. Mike wasn't born from money, nor was Harvey, but they dressed the part. Well, Harvey more than Mike. The gunman could have easily thought he was hitting pay dirt, robbing two yuppie lawyers, along with a few unsuspecting coffee patrons.

Mike glanced down at his hands. They were still shaking slightly, the dried blood making his fingers stiff. Harvey's blood was on his hands; both figuratively and literally. Harvey's blood…

Nausea rolled through Mike again, the sour taste of bile stinging the back of his throat. He spun on his heel, barely hearing Donna call him back…

**Suits**

**OK, I will get into Harvey's POV in the next chapter. But I wanted to do some Mike angst beforehand.**

**Anyway, thanks so, so, so, so much for reviewing, alerting, and reading last chapter. You guys are awesome.**

**So, thanks for reading, drop a comment if you can, and I will see you in chapter three.**

**I own nothing :D**

**Bye...**

**P.S. I did not know if they gave Donna a last name, so I gave her one. And I wasn't sure if Mike knew about Harvey not being born from money. So, I took a stab in the dark and hoped I wasn't wrong...**


	3. Chapter 3

Donna watched Mike disappear into the bathroom, torn between going after him and checking on her boss. Figuring Mike would be okay for a few minutes, she turned and headed into the small cubical.

She had seen Harvey hurt and sick on a few occasions. He was the most difficult sick person, trying to do work when he knew he should be resting. He had gotten the flu three years ago, and made it a habit to call Donna every half hour, asking if she rescheduled his appointments and wrote his messages down. In fact, his calls got so irritating, she literally showed up at his apartment, took his phone, and told him to rest or she would quit. He didn't call again.

He was in a car accident about six months after he hired her, broke his leg in six places. He was supposed to stay off his feet for six weeks, but Harvey Specter didn't listen to doctors. He showed up at the office the same day he was released from the hospital, trying to work.

No matter the injury, no matter how many doctors told him to rest, Harvey would try to do his job. And today was no different.

The moment Harvey spotted Donna, his dark eyes slightly glazed, he started speaking, "Did you reschedule that meeting with Jessica?" his words slurred together, his eyelids barely staying open.

"Harvey, that meeting was two days ago," she responded slowly, moving toward her boss.

"But did you reschedule it?" he pressed, obviously hearing what he wanted to hear. It was almost like any other day.

"Yeah, Harvey, I rescheduled it," Donna relented knowing he'd just keep asking.

"Good, 'cause that's all I need. Jessica on my ass about some stupid meeting. I mean, jus' because I didn' take Louis to that stupid baseball game…" he continued speaking, but his words ran together so much Donna couldn't keep track of them. "Hey," Harvey suddenly said and Donna looked down at him. "Where's Mike?"

"He went to the bathroom," Donna responded slowly.

"Have…" Harvey's eyelids slipped closed and it took some effort for him to open them. "Have him go over those files for the Sander's case…"

"Harvey, that court case was today." Donna was slowly getting worried. Harvey didn't have Mike's memory, but he wasn't one to forget a case. She calmly reminded herself it was the concussion, he just needed some time and he'd remember.

"Was it?" it was obvious Specter was trying to remember, but the only thing he accomplished was a scrunched up forehead. "Well, regardless, have him look at those files. Oh, and tell him to get a haircut. And a better razor."

"Anything else?"

"Find me a way outta here," Harvey grumped his eyes drooping shut again, this time they didn't open. Donna watched him for a second longer before turning on her heel and heading out of the cubical. She retraced Mike's steps, finding the bathroom empty. If it wasn't for the fact that Donna saw him enter this room, the lingering blood in the sink, and the smell of vomit she would have thought he was never here.

She sighed heavily, taking her phone from her purse. She called Mike, he didn't answer. She didn't leave a message. She called twice more, but he still didn't answer. She put her phone away, walking out of the men's room. She moved back to Harvey's cubical area, checked on him one last time, and then headed toward the elevator. She had an associate to find…

**NCIS**

Mike sat on the bench outside the hospital. His plan had been to flag down a cab, head home to change, and return to work. He needed to get his mind off of everything that had happened, and doing a stack of errands for Louis seemed like his best option. Plus, Harvey had left a stack of briefs for him to look over, on his desk. Anything had to be better than this guilt gnawing away at him.

But he hadn't gotten that far. He'd made it to the entrance before his legs started shaking again. He had to sit down, pretty sure he was about to fall down. In fact, expect to draw his legs up, he hadn't moved since sitting down. And the guilt came crashing back full force.

What if the head wound became more serious and Harvey died? Would they blame him for Harvey's death? Would Jessica have him arrested because he wanted to stop for coffee? _Of course they wouldn't_, he silently berated himself. _You're being stupid. It wasn't your fault_.

But it was. It was his fault. Coffee had been his idea. Yes, he knew he hadn't suggested it today. That had all been Harvey, but he had mentioned The Java Hut several times. '_Hey, Harvey, that place has good coffee. Can we stop?_' _'Still has great coffee and doughnuts. Doughnuts that would give Crispy Cream a bad name.'_ '_Hey, that place has scones to die for…_'

To die for? To die for? Who says crap like that? To die for? It was stupid of him to even say. Nothing should be 'to die for.' No one should have to die because their associate didn't want to drink the firm's coffee. No one should…

God, all this crap was making him dizzy. He shook his head, taking a deep breath. He needed to get a grip. Harvey wasn't dying. In fact other than a concussion he was going to be fine. _Yeah, tell that to my overworked brain…_

"Mike," a quiet voice said and Mike looked up, Donna standing over him. "I thought you left."

"Didn't get far," Mike said quietly resting his chin on his knees. Donna walked around the bench, taking a seat next to him.

"Are you still blaming yourself for this?" she asked quietly, trying to catch his eyes.

"Doesn't matter. You heard the doctor. Harvey's going to be fine," Mike said quietly, watching a red car stop and let a woman out of the passenger seat. She was blond, tall, wearing jeans and an Army tee-shirt. By her physical appearance she probably wasn't the one in the army. It could be her boyfriend's shirt, maybe a girlfriend. Mike really didn't want to judge what her sexual orientation happened to be…

"Mike, are you listening to me?" Mike blinked, suddenly realizing the woman had already disappeared into the hospital. He had totally spaced on whatever Donna was saying. He looked up, noting the worried look plaguing Donna's face. This was probably the most emotion Mike had seen on her face since she ran into him with her car.

"I'm sorry," he said shaking his head. "What did you say?"

"I said blaming yourself will not change what happened," Donna responded slowly, enunciating each word again.

"I have to get back to work," Mike said quietly pushing himself to his feet.

"Oh," Donna started taking aback by his abrupt tone. "Do you want a ride?"

"Someone should stay with Harvey, call Jessica. I…" Mike trailed off verbally, but his head continued his sentence: '_I just can't…'_

**_Suits_**

**_I tried for Harvey's POV, but I just couldn't get it down. I will try again next chapter. And I made a call back to my other Suits fic _Crash.**

**So, thanks so much for reading last chapter, thanks for the reviews, alerts, and support, and drop a comment if you can.**

**I hope you enjoyed this**

**Bye...**

**P.S. I do not own these characters...**


	4. Chapter 4

Harvey stepped off the elevator, ignoring the dull throbbing headache that he had woken up with, and headed down the hall toward his office. He had been released from the hospital the day before yesterday, the doctor telling him to take the next few days easy. Harvey didn't want to take any days easy; he wanted to work, but Donna pretty much threatened to sic Jessica on him if he tried to come into work. So he was stuck at home for two days.

Out loud he'd tell Donna he worked anyway, but secretly he just re-watched all seven Star Trek movies and the first two seasons of the show. He would have gotten the third season done also, but he had ordered the animated series online and it had come while he had been at the hospital and he wanted to…

Harvey nearly stopped, berating himself for sounding like a total nerd. He had a reputation to keep and he couldn't afford to have such juvenile thoughts while he was working. Besides, he liked the television show better…

He walked past Donna, whose squinted eyes told him she disapproved, but he had to work. He couldn't sit around. He'd go stir-crazy by the end of the week.

"You know your face can get stuck that way." He said walking past her. He stopped at his office door and turned to face her. "Hey, do you have…" a bottle of Tylenol appeared in her hand. He snatched it from her, actually grateful she predicted he'd return to work earlier than planned.

"You shouldn't be here," she called after him as he shut the door. He moved across his office, palming three Tylenol. He knocked them back, swallowing them dry, setting the bottle on his desk before taking a seat in his chair. He stared at his laptop, for the first time, in a while, really not wanting to open it.

As much as he wanted to work, he kinda enjoyed his two day break. He caught up on some sleep, watched his favorite show, and actually wore jeans. He missed jeans sometimes. Don't get him wrong, he loved donning a suit and going on in public. Just to see either the look of contempt or respect on some schmuck's face left him with a tingling sensation up his spin. But still, suits got old fast...

He sighed heavily, opening his laptop. He checked his email first, skimming all the usual garbage before reading a long one from Jessica. She had sent it that morning, six minutes ago. Meaning she saw him enter the building at some point.

He scanned the email, snorting at a few parts. '_You have some kind of relapse I will personally fire you.' _And '_Gunshot wounds need to be taken seriously, Harvey.'_ It wasn't until he got to the end did he start to get... _not so amused_. '_Talk to your associate. He's been acting strange.'_ She ended the email with a quick '_glad you are okay.'_

Harvey re-read the line about Mike. He wouldn't know how Mike had been acting. He hadn't seen the kid since the incident at the coffee shop. Harvey couldn't remember all the details, some were just too fuzzy to recall, but he got the gist of it. He tried to talk a gun man down, the guy fired his gun, and he got hurt. It wasn't a big deal, he was fine.

_Not amusement_ gripped his stomach. Was Mike hurt, too? No one offered up too much information on the younger guy. Donna had assured Harvey Michael was okay, but maybe she was just saying that because she wanted him to relax. To not be _not amused_ about the kid.

"Donna," he said calling his assistant.

"_Wha_t?"

"Have Mike come see me when he gets in."

"_Finally,_" Donna said or he thought she said it. Before Harvey could elaborate on it, however, she had already ended the call. Sometimes he wondered about his assistant.

**Suits**

It was another fifteen minutes before Mike finally showed up. Harvey tried to act like he wasn't paying attention, scanning a file that had been sitting on his desk, but in his peripheral he noticed Ross hesitate in the door way. Donna said something to him, he responded, she pointed at the door glaring, and he finally nodded and stepped into the office.

Harvey's _not amusement_ peaked tenfold when he got his first glimpse at his associate. Mike looked like crap on the best of days. His hair was too long, his razor just couldn't quite get him clean shaven, he always had the beginnings of dark shadows under his eyes, and his suits were wrinkled from riding his bike and the fact that he owned six and only wore half of them in a work week.

But now. Now it was just very, very, very_ not amusing. _In fact, it was a little sad. In a 'not caring' sort of way. Because Harvey didn't care, he didn't. He just didn't want to see his associate so burnt out. It made him look bad. And if he looked bad, the firm looked bad.

"You look like shit," Harvey commented leaning back in his chair, keeping his face impassive.

"You wanted to see me?" Mike questioned ignoring Harvey's comment. There was something in his eyes, something Harvey didn't like. Yep, he was so _not amused_ that he was starting to feel a little ill.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing." He was lying. He always scratched his nose when he lied. "Is that it?"

"Oh for crying out loud," Donna said making both Harvey and Mike jump. It had to be the fact that he was shot, that he hadn't seen his assistant listening in from the open door. She stormed into the office, stopping next to Mike.

"He thinks it's his fault you were shot," she said pointing at Mike. "There, it's out there." She waved her hands. "Do with it what you will." She moved toward the door, actually closing it behind her that time.

Harvey waited for Mike to say something, the younger guy finding his shoes to be the most interesting thing in the whole office. A complete load of bull, in Harvey's opinion: he had a lot of interesting stuff in his office. His record collection, his signed basketballs, that weird painting that he never really understood but hung up because Donna got it for him and it was either that or have her glare at him all the time. Besides, the painting had grown on him some, and it wasn't that big, and it added character. Or, that's what a client told him once…

He was stalling, he knew he was. If Mike felt responsible, really, truly responsible, they were probably going to have to talk about it. Harvey hated talking about feelings and stuff, but he hated feeling _not amused_ about Mike so he would just have to suck it up. And, if he didn't talk this through with the kid, there was a possibility he would continue to run himself ragged. No doubt he had been working a lot over the past three days, trying to keep himself from thinking. The signs were right there, Harvey too perceptive not to notice.

"Look at me," Harvey finally said when Mike made no attempt to speak. He waited until Ross looked up, heavily bagged blue eyes locking on his dark ones. "Did you pull the trigger?" Mike shook his head. "Did you ask that guy attempt to rob that coffee place?" a second head shake. "Then how is any of this your fault?"

Mike took a breath, his eyes finding his shoes again, and said, "I wanted to stop for coffee."

"Really? Is that what happened?" Harvey waited until Mike met his eyes again, the younger man's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Because, the memories may be a little hazy, but I do recall I asked Ray to stop for coffee."

"At a place I recommended," Mike argued weakly. "In a bad part of town. We shouldn't have stop. We should have just come back here. I screwed up and you got hurt."

Harvey was quiet for a second, thinking. He then gestured to the chair situated on the other side of his desk. "Sit down; I'm going to share something with you." Mike stared at the chair, almost as if it were going to bite him, before nodding once and sinking into it.

"When I was an associate I was working under Jessica…"

"I know," Mike said quietly.

"What did I say about interruptions?" Harvey threw a half-glare at Mike. The younger guy muttered an apology, allowing Harvey to continue. "It had been the first week I was working with her, and I had been given one simple job. Keep an eye on the witness's daughter."

"Let me guess, you lost her," Mike asked, a trickle of hope creeping into his eyes, across his face.

"No," Harvey deadpanned figuratively slapping the hope away. "What I did was worse."

"What? Did you sleep with her?" the office got really quiet, the small smirk Mike managed to conjure wilting. Harvey had hoped to keep any sort of emotion off his face, but the unconscious flinch didn't help matters. She had been nineteen, he was in his mid-twenties. She was 'friendly', he was a guy. Really, what was he supposed to do?

"And Jessica walked in on us…" Mike shook his head at his boss's admission. Harvey fixed the younger man with a pointed glare. "That, kid, is screwing up. Figuratively and literally. It's not screwing up if you didn't do anything.

"Hell, Louis got his boss stabbed when he started working here."

"What?"

"It's a long story, and I'm not sure what exactly happened, but all I know is his boss ended up with fifteen stitches in his arm and a scar." Mike smiled at that story, Harvey fighting a smirk of his own. He sobered pretty quickly and said, "My point is, this was not your fault. You want to blame someone, blame me…"

"But you didn't do anything."

"Interruptions, Michael."

"Sorry."

"…or blame that guy who had the gun. I heard he was picked up a few blocks away for robbing another place."

"He was," Mike said quietly after a long pause.

"See, asshole got what he deserved."

The room lapsed into a very long, very uncomfortable silence. After a few minutes Harvey took a breath and said, "You haven't been doing stuff for Louis have you?"

"Not too much." Nose scratch: lie.

"Stop," Harvey responded glancing down at his computer. "And I expect you to take a shower and get a good night's sleep for tomorrow. I can't have you looking like that. It's embarrassing."

Mike sat for a second, stock still, but finally got the hint. Harvey had been dismissing him. He stood, moving toward the door, but then stopped.

"What?" Harvey questioned looking up to see the scrunched up eyebrow look again.

"You didn't watch Star Trek, did you?"

"What?"

"Two days, no work. I just have a feeling you watched Star Trek."

"Go back to work, Ross."

"Kirk or Piccard? I know you said Kirk was the man, but I have a feeling you are a Piccard man."

"Get out." Harvey pointed to the door. Mike flashed him a small smile before leaving. Harvey caught the smirk on Donna's face even though she was trying to look busy. Harvey shook his head, looking at his computer again.

If he were being honest he was less _not amused_ now. He had a feeling Mike would slowly let his blame go, now that they actually took the time to talk. Harvey just hoped these conversations didn't become a regular thing…

**FIN...**

**Suits**

**I am ending this here for a number of reasons, but a big one is because I am working on too many projects right now. I just need to clear my 'plate' of a few and I may come back to this, fix some things. Maybe make it longer.**

**But until then, I hope you liked this, thanks for reading, reviewing, and alerting. And I own nothing.**

**Drop a comment if you can :D**

**Bye...**


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